


Can't Save Everyone

by thosewhofall



Category: James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 007 is HUMAN IMAGINE THAT, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosewhofall/pseuds/thosewhofall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Bond is the best MI6 has to offer, but when it matters most, he isn't good enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Save Everyone

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: All the sads.

James Bond was well aware of the fact that he was a monumental fuck-up of a man, but it was never as blatantly clear to him as when he had failed his most recent mission. It had never been so blatantly clear as when he returned to England nearly empty handed. He returned to England without the prize he was supposed to recover, and returned to a cold bed and slept alone and he’d never admit it but he might have cried. Double Oh agents don’t fail in their missions. Double Oh agents don’t fail to save other MI6 agents.  


But Double Oh agents don’t cry either.  


They don’t have feelings.  


They don’t care.  


And in that respect, James Bond has never been the perfect Double Oh agent.  


He’d jumped on the chance to go to Russia, to retrieve their stolen agent. He’d jumped on the chance to save the person, to bring them back alive. It had been a difficult mission, little that could be done to help him find the person. Little that could be done to lead him to where he needed to be, little that could warn him that they were waiting for him, that they had kept the agent alive long enough for him to walk in and see the bullet go through his head. No one had told him that it was going to feel like someone had reached into his body and tore his heart out.  


James Bond was a trained agent. He knew how to fight and how to kill and how to avenge, and he did. Anyone in the general vicinity died, innocent or guilty, James didn’t much care in the moment. It didn’t help him any all. It didn’t ease the ache in his chest. It didn’t erase the memory of long nights in bed with fingers running over his chest against his scars and skin. Long nights of warm bodies close together, of comfort and shared skin and shared air and shared time.  


Instead he returned to England a broken man. He couldn’t even look the new M in the eye as he handed over the broken remains of a laptop and asked for a leave of absence. He needed time, he’d asked, nearly begged, and M hadn’t even questioned it. “Take the time you need to heal, 007.” He’d smiled almost like he cared and then sent Bond on his way.  


Bond returned three weeks later, walking into MI6 and feeling the eyes on him. They wondered where he had been, why the last mission had taken so much out of him. He didn’t much care about their eyes on him, as he made his way to Q-branch, shoulders back, ever the professional. He ignored M and Moneypenny as they tried to get him to talk, instead he just stared at the new Quartermaster, anger and self-hate burning inside him, “You called.”  


The young woman looked up, and she had bright eyes and short hair and thick glasses and if he squinted she might have been his Q but no one would ever be his Q so he didn’t even bother. “I found something on the laptop labeled ‘for Bond.’ It was encrypted incredibly well and as a last step it’s asking for a password, it’s a question prompt and I’m assuming you know the answer.” She moved away from the computer she had been standing at and motioned for Bond to move into her place.  


On the screen was a picture of JMW Turner’s ‘The Fighting Temeraire’ and the question ‘What did you see, James?’ and that alone nearly breaks Bond as he stands in Q-Branch. His fingers shake as he types, still unsure of technology, but the words ‘a bloody big ship’ falling into the password box. His shaking causes a few mistypes, and he has to do it a few times but it opens, and there are words on a page that Bond has to stop in the middle of reading to wipe the moisture he refused to call tears from his eyes.  


_James,  
_

They are going to kill me. I know it. I don’t fear death, it’s been a journey for me, from where I was born to where I am now. Even now as I type they’re around me, they think I’m hacking MI6 for them and they’re wrong, I’m running an encryption program for this, actually.  
MI6 found me and I was sure any chance of a normal life was over. I was sure I was never going to know what it was like to love and be loved and to be accepted for who I was, with all of the little quirks that went along with me, but you came along and you showed me otherwise and I can’t thank you enough for what you have given me.  


I knew that I was going to die as soon as they took me because you’re an amazing man but you’re one of a team of amazing men and without someone else to help you, to guide you, there was no way for you to know that they keep a guard on me at all times. There’s no way to know that they have orders to kill me at the sight of anyone coming to rescue me. You didn’t know and James, find it in your heart to be okay with that.  


I will die an honorable death, for my Queen and my Country, protecting her secrets and knowing that it was me that saved her from ruin by keeping her safe. I will die knowing that I have lived and I have loved and I was loved in return. I will die knowing that you would have done everything possible to save me, and I will die knowing that you have avenged my death.  


I will die as in love with you as I was the first day I kissed you, the first day you held me, and the first day you told me that you were afraid; that you had emotions and feelings. I will die knowing that James Bond loved me.  


Please don’t fret over the fact that you couldn’t save me, James. You’re human as much as you Double Oh’s try to be anything but. You’re human and you’re fallible and you can’t save everyone. I’m a lost cause. I have always been a lost cause. I was destined to die in some marvelous way, like this, my life was never meant to be typical.  
Thank you for loving me, James Bond.  


Yours in Life and Death,  


Q.  


PS: Hit the f9 key, and the message will re-lock so that only you can read it. F7 will delete it.  


Bond spent a long time staring at the message before he searched out the F9 key on the keyboard. He didn’t want to read it again today, or tomorrow, or for a long, long time, but someday, he might.  


“What did it say?” The new Quartermaster asked, eyes wide and childish and so blatantly forward that it made Bond angry.  


“If he wanted you to know what it said, he would have made it so that you could unlock the final screen.” Bond snapped. “Is there any way for me to have my own copy of that?”  


“I thought you might want one. I burned it onto a disc for you. And wrote instructions on how to access it.” She handed him a clear case and a disc. “You won’t give up a little of what it said?”  


Bond rolled his eyes and turned from the room.  


He returned to his flat, sitting in his chair and processing what Q had written. He could hear his Quartermaster’s voice as he read the letter. He could see the look on his face as he glanced around him so they couldn’t see what he was doing, coding with one hand and typing the letter with the other. He could see the tear of frustration he’d emit if he missed a letter or a line and had to go back to fix it, had to take the chance that he wouldn’t be able to finish it. James knew it had been done in love and that Q had been honest.  
He trusted him that much.  


You can’t save everyone.  


“You’re right, I can’t, Q.” Bond said to no one, “But I would have given everyone else up to save you.” He took a swig of his whiskey and let the alcohol lull him to sleep.


End file.
